The brief respite in Karuizawa and thoughts of his deceased wife did not numb Tsukiyuki Kyoichi’s senses. Upon returning to Tokyo, he continued to build up the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu, working from morning till night with almost no rest.
“Wait a little longer, Riko. Perhaps before long, we’ll be reunited.”
After her death, Tsukiyuki Kyoichi would set aside time each day to walk around the room. His late wife’s room remained just as she had left it when alive; servants came on time every day to clean.
The woman in the photo wore a faint smile. She, too, had once been young. The reason every old person sometimes appears sluggish is not intentional; rather, their bodies no longer allow them to be as they were in youth.
He gently traced his fingers over the photo.
“Well, I’m off to work then.”
Entering the Tsukiyuki Products office building and arriving at his own office, the word Tsukiyuki Kyoichi loved most was “monopoly.” A monopoly faces no threat from competitors, can control pricing, and yields long-term profits—much like the oil magnate John D. Rockefeller.
In his day, Rockefeller’s oil monopoly was built on ruthless tactics: first, he would buy out competitors at low prices; if refused, he’d start a price war; if that still didn’t work, he’d resort to violence—beating up workers and setting fire to rival factories. After a few rounds, few could hold out, and thus the Rockefeller oil empire was founded.
Of course, in this day and age, resorting to the violence of the past is unrealistic. But Tsukiyuki Kyoichi still had his methods. Through cross-shareholding, he bound Thailand’s Zhengda Financial Group into the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu’s system, and by gradual encroachment, he completely monopolized Thailand’s agriculture, retail, and telecommunications industries.
He also set his sights on non-ferrous metals and rare earths. Around the world, people provided a steady stream of intelligence to the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu—naturally including double agents from other conglomerates. But ever since Tsukiyuki Rio, the Prophesied Girl, joined, the zaibatsu under Tsukiyuki Kyoichi’s control had grown stronger day by day.
Recently, Tsukiyuki Kyoichi had also been actively pushing anti-monopoly laws. This was not, of course, to strip himself of power; rather, he aimed to achieve an even more complete monopoly. This elderly man, his life flickering like a candle in the wind, would instantly transform once he sat in his office. He was a super-strategist with a global perspective. From birth until now, the old man had visited eighty percent of the world’s countries and concluded many deals that benefited the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu.
“Patriarch Kyoichi, a letter for you.”
A graduate of the University of Tokyo Faculty of Law from the Tsukiyuki Clan main family entered the old man’s office with utmost respect. The intern moved with great care, afraid of making the slightest mistake. Tsukiyuki Kyoichi was not one to hire Tsukiyuki clan members out of familial sentiment.
Within the Tsukiyuki family, any young person who was not outstanding enough had no right to join the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu’s system and partake in the gluttonous feast of carving up the world.
Taking the letter, the address was from the State of Georgia in North America’s Country A.
“Georgia, huh…” Tsukiyuki Kyoichi murmured. “Tsukiyuki Teppei, tell me, what history does the state of Georgia have?”
“That…”
The sudden question threw the Todai graduate into a panic.
Georgia? In the graduate’s limited memory, he vaguely recalled that Georgia was one of the seven states in the southern part of Country A. But if asked about its specific location, he was completely clueless. He trembled, knowing that failing to answer would disappoint the Patriarch. Yet, what he didn’t know, he simply didn’t know.
“Ah, never mind. More reading will do you good, Teppei.” Tsukiyuki Kyoichi leisurely opened the envelope and said, “Jekyll Island in Georgia is the birthplace of the Federal Reserve. You should know something about the Federal Reserve, right?”
“Yes, Patriarch. The Federal Reserve is a private central bank. If the government of Country A wants to obtain U.S. dollars, it must pledge the future tax revenues of its people to the Federal Reserve, which then issues ‘Federal Reserve Notes’—that is, dollars.”
“You got that right. In 1910, Jekyll Island in Georgia was a vacation spot for a group of Country A’s super-wealthy—among them world-famous magnates. Headed by J.P. Morgan, they formed a hunting club there. One-sixth of the planet’s wealth was concentrated in the hands of that club’s members.” Tsukiyuki Kyoichi spoke in a slow, ponderous tone. “Those memberships were inheritable and non-transferable. And ten years ago, this old man became a member of that club.”
“1910, the Federal Reserve… could it be…?”
“Just as you imagine. On that remote island, the wealthy had no real interest in hunting. They drafted an important document there—the Federal Reserve Act. Most people have always thought the Federal Reserve belongs to the government, but it doesn’t. The Federal Reserve belongs to international bankers. Even the government’s original 20% stake in the Fed was taken away. However, to make the Fed deceptive, the Board of Governors is appointed by the President of Country A, but the Board’s true functions are controlled by the Federal Advisory Council, whose members are mostly from the Bankers Association.”
“I see…” Tsukiyuki Teppei couldn’t help but shudder at the old man’s account.
“Financiers have no concept of nation or ethnicity, nor honor or noble sentiments. In their eyes, there is only money. The hand that gives is always above the hand that takes. In this respect, our Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu is no different.” Tsukiyuki Kyoichi stood up and said to the young Todai graduate, “Go contact Senju and Kazo for me.”
“Senju and Kazo? Clan Leader, might you be planning to bring the Prophesied Girl to this meeting as well?”
“It’s time for Rio to meet those who truly rule this world. She will be the next clan leader.”
“But Lady Prophesied Girl is still attending the University of Tokyo, isn’t she?”
“The University of Tokyo?” Tsukiyuki Kyoichi couldn’t help but let out a dismissive snort. “You can’t learn any useful knowledge in a place like that. The knowledge that truly carves up the world is never taught in schools. That place is merely an institution to sift out people with decent brains and make them serve the Tsukiyuki Zaibatsu.”
“Very well, I’ll contact Lady Senju and Lord Kazo at once.”
Rio’s parents, Senju and Kazo, were enjoying a rare moment of leisure.
At noon, the two went to an Italian restaurant together. Deep down, Kazo still held some resentment toward the Tsukiyuki family for preventing him from seeing his grandmother one last time, but he still loved his wife.
After they finished lunch, a man in a butler’s uniform approached and said respectfully:
“Lady Senju, Lord Kazo, the Patriarch requests your presence.”
